


Meeting in the Forest

by ElbyWoggit



Category: Black Desert Online (Video Game)
Genre: BDO Valkyrie, BDO Witch, Backstory, Blood and Violence, Elf Culture & Customs, Fluff, Gen, Half-Elf, kamasylvia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:02:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23636506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElbyWoggit/pseuds/ElbyWoggit
Summary: My valkyrie and my witch meet each other under dire circumstances in the Kamasylvia.





	Meeting in the Forest

Panic. She ran. It's all she could do. She held her upper right arm with her free hand. Blood flowed freely from it, as it hung uselessly at her side. Her footfalls pounded in the underbrush. Her heartbeat drummed in her ears.

Behind her, the muffled stomps of a black panther pursued her. Twigs snapped; bushes rustled. In front of her, nothing but vines and leaves. She pushed through them.

Her booted foot caught on a tree root. She screamed, high and shrill. Her face splatted on the blanket of leaves lining the forest floor. Her free arm pushed her body up and over.

And she found herself face-to-face with her predator. Wide green eyes thinned to black pearl pupils. The panther’s fangs reflected deadly off their tear-filled surface. It leaped, with a snarl. By instinct, she rolled, dodging, screaming. Already tired legs pushed her up, and she ran, ran, ran.

She cleared a patch of dense shrubs, and then skidded to a halt. Up ahead was a ravine, plunging rapidly into a fast, choppy river. Quick half-elven feet turned, her face looking behind her. Sure enough, the panther appeared, slinking out of the foliage, facing her. Patches of fireball-burnt fur clung to its shoulder and neck, but otherwise, it seemed unphased. It licked its hungry lips. It knew she was trapped, the time for hurrying was past.

She turned her head back to the river. It flowed, chirping happily as always, the same song it always sang. Did it not hear her screaming? Did it not see her tears, her blood, as they dropped to join it?

She judged her chances of jumping, versus her chances fighting the cat. Turning back to the cat, it's unsympathetic eyes watched her. It almost seemed to be smiling.

She whimpered. She was a child, barely 7 years old, alone, without her mother, with only the sleeping spirits of the trees and river to comfort her. Her whine was a plea to the spirits to help her. They always assisted her before, when she sought refuge under the forest's green canopy. Were they going to abandon her now? She backed up to the edge of the river. Maybe the river sprites will be more compassionate.

For a tense moment, she faced her fate, sobbing loudly. The cat prowled around her, playing with its food. That smug smirk told her that it might enjoy this for a good, long while. She drew in a deep breath, anger filling her lungs. It would not win the satisfaction, not today. She dropped her left hand from its place nursing her gushing wound, and tensed it, gathering energy. The young half-elven girl would NOT go down without a fight.

Suddenly, from somewhere on her right, she heard a battle cry! Flashing into view was a kite shield, flaming radiantly with the sun's white light. It bull-rushed the panther's flank, pushing it over. The girl gasped, losing her spark for the moment. Behind the shield, was a woman in full chainmail, wearing a blue tunic with a gold symbol over it. As the girl looked closer, she realized she was a half-elf, with a shock-red braid tumbling past her pointed ears. A circlet with silver wings adorned her head. The woman held a longsword straight to the sky, and within a moment it shone with holy power. With a leap, the woman pounced on the cat, and drove the flame of righteousness into its heart. The cat snarled, yelped, squirmed, and then, died.

Panting, the girl's savior wiped the longsword on the moss of a nearby tree, gesticulated a T over her chest, and then sheathed her sword. Finally, she faced the girl. “You alright?” she asked.

The girl stood, stunned, her eyes moons and fixed on the lady. She was a little more than a meter high, her green romper shredded and covered in twigs and thorns. The girl's heart-shaped face was smeared with her own blood and mud. Two dark red disheveled braids hung from behind long elven ears.

The lady shifted the weight of her kite shield, strolled to a spot just in front of the girl, and kneeled down. “Hey, it's alright, I en't gonna hurt ya. Your friend here,” she said, tossing a head in the direction of the corpse, “He ain't gonna move anytime soon.”

The girl nodded, still dazed. Tears began welling in her eyes, but with a quick wipe from the back of her hand, and a toss of her head, she held them back. She nodded more emphatically.

“That's a good girl.” The lady's gaze fell on the girl's right arm. It was bitten clear through, the white of bone peering through shreds of muscle. “He gotchu, didn't he?” she asked, her own bright green staring into the girl's leafy slitted eyes.

“Mmhmm,” the girl murmured.

The lady nodded. “Welp, we'll just get you all patched up. You're gonna be alright.” She started to move to touch the girl's arm.

The girl flinched. “No! I got it... The spirits will heal me.” With her left hand, she began the gestures, the ones that called the sprites that lived in her heart. But try as she might, her spiritual energy was drained, expended as elemental energies at the panther in self-defense. She kept trying, determined, her brow wrinkling with frustration.

“Oh, stop that, honey. Spirits gotta rest. I can do this.” The lady moved again to touch the arm. The girl watched her, frowning, but allowing the touch. Whispering a prayer, the lady's hand glowed and rested on the wound. Her left hand lifted to cover it. The lady bent her head over it, continuing the chant to Elion and his Divine Grace. Green-white light intensified within the wound, flesh coming together. The girl began wincing with discomfort.

“Alright, let's let Elion do his work,” the Lady said, keeping her hands in place but lifting her head. “My name's Sylna. What's yours, child?”

The girl answered, “Elbi,” between sharp breaths.

“That's a pretty name, for a pretty girl,” Sylna said. The girl smiled, taking her eyes off her arm. Sylna returned the smile. “What's a pretty girl doing in the middle of nowhere?”

“Talkin' to the Fae,” she answered. Everyone knew that the deep forest is where the Fae Folk live.

Sylna pressed her lips. The deep forest is also where the most dangerous animals live. And a few dangerous plants, too. “You got a momma somewhere?” she asked.

“Mmhmm.” She looked in a direction northwest, downstream of the river. “She's in the post.”

Sylna followed the line of sight. That was either the Lemoria post, or Longleaf. Either way, it was a long, long trip, many hours. Elbi's mother must be worried sick, Sylna imagined. “Alright, honey, let's get you back home to your momma.”

Elbi squirmed, breaking Sylna's contact and the weaving of the healing with it. “No! I don't wanna go home! They're _mean_.” Elbi's arm was mostly healed, but 1cm deep gashes still gaped open.

Sylna leveled a stern, matronly gaze at the child. “Who's mean?” she asked.

“The Acher girls! They're _mean_!” she spat out, with a glare.

Sylna's gaze softened. That information told her two things: one, that Longleaf was her home, a day or so's trip north from where they were presently, around the mountains. After taking another look at the girl, and her rounded, human-like features, she knew the second thing: that Elbi was a half-elf, just like her. “Yeah, those Acher girls can be mean,” she sympathized. She remembered the less than warm welcome she received the first time her family tried to visit the Kamasylvia. “They're just jealous they ain't gonna have a boyfriend like human girls can. And guess what?”

“What?” Elbi asked.

“They aren't nearly as pretty as we are.” Sylna winked, her eyes full of humor. “Or half as unique.”

The half-elven girl smiled faintly, the most she could manage in her tired, muddied, blooded state.

“Atta girl,” Sylna said, reaching an arm to Elbi's right arm again.

“NO! I'm not going!” Elbi shouted, in a sudden burst of ferocity. She backed up, and, losing her step on the cliff's edge, she lost her balance. She yelped.

Sylna reacted with quickness, deftly plucking the girl from the edge. But rather than express relief or gratitude, the girl fought. Screaming noes, clawing, kicking, even biting, the girl fought. Sylna heaved a breath, and hoisted the girl up. “Nah, you're goin' home, and I'ma take you, if I have to carry you the whole way.” She slung the girl over a shoulder, and held her there.

Gradually, Elbi stopped fighting. And, all her energy spent, she fell asleep on Sylna's shoulder.


End file.
